The Beauty of the Earth

The Good Earth
by Pearl Buck

“Wang Lung sat smoking, thinking of the silver as it had lain upon the table. It had come out of the earth, this silver, out of the earth that he ploughed and turned and spent himself upon. He took his life from the earth; drop by drop by his sweat he wrung food from it and from the food, silver. Each time before this that he had taken the silver out to give to anyone, it had been like taking a piece of his life and giving it to someone carelessly. But not for the first time, such giving was not pain. He saw, not the silver in the alien hand of a merchant in the town; he saw the silver transmuted into something worth even more than life itself - clothes upon the body of his son.” 
― Pearl S. Buck, The Good Earth

I have been rereading The Good Earth by Pearl Buck. For many years this well-known novel was an unexplained void in the inventory of books that I had read. Yet, in less than two years I find myself having read and reread this amazing novel. It is amazing for several reasons, not the least of which is the deceptive simplicity of its' style. The story begins on Wang Lung's wedding day and he remains in the fore of the novel presented to the reader by the narrator as the hero of the story. However, I began to grow gradually fonder of Wang Lung's wife, O-lan, as the story progressed. Her dedication to the marriage in almost complete silence and fortitude in both work and bearing and raising the children provided her an almost mythical aura. The most moving moments of the book come when she fights to prevent her young daughter from being sold into slavery, when she is forced to give up her pearls, and when she dies. Even in death she continued to demonstrate a stoical character that made me wonder at its power and source. Surely this was not simply the result of her determination to never return to the slavery that she endured as a youth in the great house of the Hwangs.


But I said that the simple style was deceptive and by that I meant that hidden in the simple every day events, and a few that were not so common, is a picture of a culture and ethos that Wang Lung and his family lived. The work ethic of Wang Lung and his devotion to the land, "the good earth", that would keep him and his family safe was part of this culture. The depth and contrasting relationships within the family and without are displayed slowly, simply, through the actions taken and events that impinge on Wang Lung.


There is more to this story than these events and actions alone can account for. There is the action of fate through the impact of the cycles of the weather that lead to famine for those, like Wang Lung, dependent on the earth. The patronymic "good earth" turns ironic when the land lays fallow for lack of rain or the crops rot because of flooding. The vicissitudes of their life find the family of Wang Lung fleeing to the South to escape the famine, but they do not have the skills to successfully cope in the city where they end up begging until saved, through another turn of fate, by the war and the looting of the wealthy landowner's estate. It is this event that becomes a turning point in the lives of Wang Lung and O-lan as through their own loot of gold and jewels they are able to establish what will become a different life than the simple farm that they left when they fled to the South. It is this different life that, among other things, ultimately changes the family in ways that seem to prove the adage about the corrupting effect of power.


Ultimately The Good Earth is a morality tale, a parable-like story that suggests the dreams of avarice demand that the price paid is more than the silver and gold traded for land and mistresses. While most of the story seems steeped in a combination of ancestor worship and attention to evil spirits and omens, there was one episode that I found reminiscent of a parable in the New Testament when just as O-lan is dying the eldest son is recalled to be married. The celebration upon and importance of his return can have no other antecedent than the return of the prodigal son. Perhaps that moment along with others in the closing section of the novel are precursors of changes in the future greater than any experienced by Wang Lung and his family. I do not know how true the book is to the culture of pre-revolutionary China, but I do know that the beauty of the earth and the story reward its readers.



The Good Earth by Pearl Buck. Washington Square Press, New York. 2004 (1931)

The Operatic Chopin

Some of my favorite music is that of Frederic Chopin, including almost his whole oeuvre which I find appealing and eminently listenable, but there are selections that I find particularly song-like. It is this music that I refer to as the "operatic Chopin". A couple of examples will help define this aspect of his work (although in some respects this permeates many of his longer pieces).
Among the those that I love the most is the Fantasie in f minor, Op. 49. This is from his later compositions and demonstrates the mature style of the composer exhibiting both boldness and originality that, unfortunately, due to his ill-health he was not able to fully develop. Starting with a march that strides forward leading the listener into the piece, he develops an over-arching message that comprises both the storm & fury of development with the calming beauty of soaring melody. This is what I call both operatic in character and romantic in feeling and approach. Yet another march leads to triumphant music that ultimately descends to a calming resolution and close. The whole is an unforgettable operatic tone poem that defies categorization. Fantastic is an appropriate description.
I find Chopin's Ballades to share this operatic tone. My favorites are the first (Op. 23) and fourth (Op. 52) which both exhibit some of the same romantic inventiveness and melodic character. Among the many performances of these pieces available I find those of Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli, Ivan Moravec and Artur Rubenstein, while all very different, to be particularly felicitous. Moravec's approach is thoughtful and Rubenstein is a classic portrayer of this music. Michelangeli's live concert recording of his March, 1957 performance at Royal Albert Hall is eccentric, but electrifying.


Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli, the EMI live recording, London 1957. Testament #SBT2088
Ivan Moravec, Chopin. Vox Classics #VXP 7908
Artur Rubenstein, The Chopin Collection: The Ballades, The Scherzos. RCA #RCD1-7156

The Bay of Noon


A young English woman in Naples in the aftermath of World war II meets an Italian writer. A simple enough encounter that leads to a friendship with both the writer, felicitously named Gioconda, and the writer's lover Gianni, a Roman film director. This book is short, yet far from simple as the encounter contrasts both the trio and a fourth person, a Scotsman named Justin, and highlights the background of each of the characters as their lives are woven together. Shirley Hazzard demonstrates here the style that would lead to her award-winning novel, The Transit of Venus, a decade later.

In The Bay of Noon we have a simple story that is made large through the novelist's deft phrases and characterization. Notably the city of Naples itself becomes an important character reacting with and in turn influencing the life of young Jenny. Each of the lives are portrayed with an arc that is believable and, in part, tragic as life can sometimes be. The journey depicted is one of beauty and ultimate satisfaction for the reader.

The Bay of Noon was a National Book Award finalist (Fiction, 1971). Shirley Hazzard was married to the noted biographer Francis Steegmuller who died in 1994. I have previously read and enjoyed The Transit of Venus, Hazzard's masterful family saga that was awarded the National Book Critics Circle Award for Fiction in 1980.

The Bay of Noon by Shirley Hazzard. Picador Books, New York. 1970.
The Transit of Venus by Shirley Hazzard. Penguin Books, New York. 1990 (1980).

Sunday Morning Study Group

More than eight years ago I joined a reading group that was started with the aim of reading Ulysses by James Joyce. We were prepared for a slow and thorough examination of the text and we spent more than nine months of weekly discussions (minus an occasional holiday) diligently analyzing our weekly reading and having not a little bit of fun while doing so. Our group at the time was wittily called "Sunday morning in the Park with Joyce" by our host and leader Joel Jacobsen, the owner/proprietor of The Lincoln Park Book Shop. The experience was exhilarating and necessary in the case of Ulysses considering the difficulty of the text. In fact we enjoyed the experience so much that we decided to continue to read classic and perhaps "great" works of literature using the same slow approach. Now, more than eight years later, we have just finished a slow reading and discussion of The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoyevsky. There have been a few changes: the witty moniker is gone, the Bookshop is gone (we have migrated to a "Salon" in the basement the building where Joel lives), we spend two hours instead of one and a half and do so every other week. The size of the group has varied from year to year and book to book with a core group that has continued through them all.
As we are about to embark on a reading of The Plague by Albert Camus I find myself reflecting on the breadth of our reading and discussions over the eight years. At the risk of forgetting some important works we have read I will mention a few. They have ranged from The Epic of Gilgamesh and Aeschylus' tragic trilogy, The Oresteia, to Moby-Dick and Huckleberry Finn. We spent the better part of two years discussing Thomas Mann's Joseph and His Brothers and read Cervantes' Don Quixote, Marlowe's Doctor Faustus and Goethe's Faust. The most modern work we have tackled is Omeros by Derek Walcott. This modern epic masterpiece resonated with references to Homer's Odyssey which we read on the side as part of our original foray into the world of Ulysses. It has been a good eight years and I hope we make it to ten and beyond.

The Confessions of Saint Augustine


On this day in 430 St. Augustine died, at the age of seventy-five. He was Bishop of Hippo (now Annaba, Algeria) for thirty-four years, during which time he became the patriarch of Christian Africa and one of the most influential leaders of the Latin Church; from a literary viewpoint, his Confessions is one of the first major contributions to the genre of self-disclosure.

I have read this book several times, both as part of the Basic Program of Liberal Education at the University of Chicago and most recently as one of the monthly selections of a reading group in which I participate. Like all classics it bears rereading and yields new insights each time I read it. But it also is unchanging in ways that struck me when I first read it; for Augustine's Confessions seem almost modern in the telling with a psychological perspective that brings his emotional growth alive across the centuries. From the carnality of his youth to the moment in the Milanese Garden when his perspective changed forever you the story is an earnest and sincere exposition of his personal growth. You do not have to be a Catholic or even a believer to appreciate the impact of events in the life of the young Augustine. His relations with his mother, Monica, are among those that still have impact on the modern reader. This is one of those "Great" books that remind you that true insight into the human condition transcends time and place.

I must add an additional recommendation of the book A Third Testament by Malcolm Muggeridge, the British journalist and author. Muggeridge provides brief chronicles of six great searchers for spiritual fulfillment. These include, in addition to St. Augustine, Blaise Pascal, William Blake, Soren Kierkegaard, Leo Tolstoy and Dietrich Bonhoeffer. It is a short but elegant treatment of their personal searches for meaning.




Confessions by Saint Augustine. Henry Chadwick, trans. Oxford University Press, New York. 1991.
A Third Testament by Malcolm Muggeridge. A Time-Life Book by Little, Brown and Co. Boston. 1976.

Titian

Sacred and Profane Love

Titian, the greatest Italian Renaissance painter of the Venetian school, who was once described as “the sun amidst small stars not only among the Italians but all the painters of the world,” died this day in 1576.
Titian's influence on later artists has been profound: he was supreme in every branch of painting and revolutionized the oil technique with his free and expressive brushwork. Vasari wrote of this aspect of his late works that they `are executed with bold, sweeping strokes, and in patches of color, with the result that they cannot be viewed from near by, but appear perfect at a distance... The method he used is judicious, beautiful, and astonishing, for it makes pictures appear alive and painted with great art, but it conceals the labor that has gone into them.'
Sacred and Profane Love (also called Venus and the Bride) is an oil painting by Titian, painted around 1513-1514. This painting, one of the best examples of his work, was commissioned by Niccolò Aurelio, a secretary to the Venetian Council of Ten (so identified because his coat of arms appears on the sarcophagus or fountain in the centre of the image) to celebrate his marriage to a young widow, Laura Bagarotto. The work was bought in 1608 by the art patron Scipione Borghese and is currently housed with other works from the Borghese collection in the Galleria Borghese in Rome.

The novelists Arnold Bennett and Iris Murdoch both wrote novels with Sacred and Profane Love in the title (Sacred and Profane Love and The Sacred and Profane Love Machine).

Boy and Man

Intruder in the Dust

I look forward to rereading Faulkner, even when the book is not one of his very best. Intruder in the Dust, his fourteenth novel, is a good introduction to Faulkner's inimitable "stream of consciousness" style. The story is fairly straightforward although with Faulkner the narrative is never simple and you have to pay close attention to get all the details.
Intruder is particularly good when focusing on the character and psychology of young Chick Mallison, the protagonist and sometimes narrator of the story. We see his growth through his confrontation with the black farmer Lucas Beauchamp and his subsequent actions in Lucas's behalf. And we experience the tension in the small town as Lucas is wrongfully accused of murder. As always there were moments of shear poetry that took my breath away with their power and beauty. Intruder was written as Faulkner's response as a Southern writer to the racial problems facing the South. In his Selected Letters, Faulkner wrote: "the premise being that the white people in the south, before the North or the Govt. or anybody else owe and must pay a responsibility to the negro".
The characters include a spinster, Miss Habersham (shades of Dickens) and a young black boy, Aleck Sander, along with Chick's uncle Gavin Stevens. Some of the characters had previously appeared in Go Down, Moses and The Hamlet. I enjoyed rereading this Faulkner novel and found that, as with all of his oeuvre, I continued to learn more about Faulkner's special fictional world.


Intruder in the Dust by William Faulkner. Random House, New York. 1948.

Man on Wire

When done properly the documentary is a beautiful and moving cinematic work of art. Yesterday I saw an example of just that in Man on Wire, currently being shown at the Landmark Century Theaters.
Man on Wire was mesmerizing in its retelling of the story of Phillippe Petit, the wire walker. It is a look at his daring, but illegal, high-wire routine performed between New York City's World Trade Center's twin towers in 1974, what some consider, "the artistic crime of the century." Artistic it certainly was and while a crime, albeit a relatively minor one, it was presented in a masterful way in this documentary directed by James Marsh. Marsh previously directed the award-winning documentary Wisconsin Death Trip (1999) and he wrote and directed the excellent independent film, The King (2005).
The story of Phillippe's walk was told in the format of a traditional heist movie and the suspense built until the moment early on the day in 1974 when Phillippe completed his dream by stepping out on the wire between the towers. The film provided biographical background for Phillippe and showed earlier walks that were almost as dramatic at Notre Dame Cathedral and a bridge in Sydney Australia. The majesty of each of those successful walks only served to heighten the accomplishment at the World Trade Center. Not since the beautiful documentary Louis Kahn: Silence and Light in 1995 have I been so moved. I found the film truly exhilarating ultimately moving me to tears with the beauty of Phillippe's achievement. This film is worthy of recognition with major awards.

Fantastic Stories and More

Ray Bradbury

Yesterday was the anniversary of the birth of Ray Bradbury (1920), the literary, fantasy, horror, science fiction, and mystery writer. I am noting this because my favorite novels include his 1953 dystopian novel Fahrenheit 451 and The Martian Chronicles. The latter is a book which has been described both as a short story collection and a novel. He is widely considered to be one of the greatest and most popular American writers of speculative fiction during the twentieth century.
I read these novels more than forty years ago and have reread them since. In my reading I found Bradbury's writing memorable in many ways. In The Martian Chronicles he demonstrates an ability to capture both the wonder of space and its impact on the lives of the people who colonized Mars. The stories adhere to create a novel with a dreamlike quality that made it different than the average genre fiction. This was noted by another of my favorite authors, Christopher Isherwood. A chance encounter in a Los Angeles bookstore with the British expatriate writer Christopher Isherwood gave Bradbury the opportunity to put The Martian Chronicles into the hands of a respected critic. Isherwood's glowing review followed and substantially boosted Bradbury's career.
Fahrenheit 451 has rightly become a classic with its allegoric telling of the dystopian future where books are burned by firefighters. It describes a world where book lovers hide in the forest literally becoming the books that they love in acts of self-preservation. Like the Phoenix, a small band of people survive a holocaust to rise again in the rebirth of a new world. You never forget the opening line: "It was a pleasure to burn."
Bradbury has written many other fictions worth reading, particularly short stories evocative of his own Midwest roots in Waukegan, Illinois. Perhaps my own roots in southern Wisconsin explain in part why I enjoy his writing. Some of his other writings that I have enjoyed over the years include Dandelion Wine, Something Wicked This Way Comes, The Illustrated Man and The Stories of Ray Bradbury ( I particularly cherished the collection The Vintage Bradbury).




The Martian Chronicles by Ray Bradbury. The Heritage Press, Norwalk Connecticut . 1974 (1950)
Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury. Simon & Schuster, New York. 2003 (1953)

Nostalgia


Reading the latest entry on my friend John Enright's blog, Rhyme of the Day, I was reminded of past summers in August and visits with my family to Oklahoma to see my Grandmother.
Each August we would pack up the car and travel from our home in Elkhorn, Wisconsin down Route 66 to Miami, Oklahoma where my mother grew up. I still remember her corner house at 33 G Street NE with a porch that wrapped around two sides facing the street corner. Many evenings I would sit on the porch reading as the daylight slowly waned. My sister and I filled our days with visits to the local swimming pool, the library and, sometimes when a good film was playing, the movie theater downtown. Each of these were places one could cool off as well as have fun. One of the things we often did during these visits was take various side trips to see sites in Oklahoma and Missouri. Over the years we visited Joplin, Tulsa, Will Rogers's home in Claremore, Silver Dollar City and others. One of my fondest memories was visiting The Buffalo Ranch in Afton, Oklahoma. This was not very far as Afton was just a few miles further west on Route 66, but it was unique with the Buffalo (American Bison) and other animals including llamas and yaks. I still have postcards saved from these visits. It is a reminder of another era, growing up in the 1950s, travelling with family and living in what seems now like another world.

Looking for Trouble



I had never read or even heard of Ralph Peters when I sat down to watch CSPAN's BookTV a couple of weeks ago. What I was introduced to was a fascinating writer and thinker, journalist and novelist, who retired from the Army as a Lieutenant Colonel and has written nineteen books.
I was impressed by the interview and decided to read his latest collection of essays, Looking for Trouble: Adventures in a Broken World. This was a timely decision with Georgia and the Caucasus on the front pages this week, for the first essay in the book, June 1991: The Caucasus, describes the adventure of Ralph and his friend Captain Peter Zwack as they toured, illegally, through the then "Soviet" Armenia and into Georgia. The episode ends with an amusing but humane dinner with a Georgian named David who regales the two Americans with drinks, dinner, his mother and more in the capital city of Tbilisi. The rest of Peter's essay collection is just as exciting and fun with stops in Pakistan, the Kremlin, Mexico and elsewhere as he recounts dramatic escapades in this "Broken World". Any author who travels with a copy of Xenophon at his side is likely to be worth reading: I'm glad I've added the writings of Ralph Peters to my library and I expect to read more in the future.


Looking for Trouble: Adventures in a Broken World by Ralph Peters. Stackpole Books, Mechanicsburg, PA. 2008

Neil Simon


Neil Simon's comedies are among my favorites, especially The Odd Couple in its film version with Walter Matthau and Jack Lemmon. I was pleasantly entertained today by a superb production of another of his comedies, Plaza Suite, by the Eclipse Theatre Company at the Victory Garden Greenhouse Theater.

Plaza Suite consists of three one-act comedies with the same setting, a suite at the Plaza Hotel in Manhattan. The original Broadway production featured George C. Scott and Maureen Stapleton as the leads in all three of the acts. In the current revival the Eclipse director, Steve Scott, cast different actors in each of the roles and found an excellent ensemble. Cece Klinger excelled as ever (I enjoyed her recent performance in Tennessee Williams' Candles to the Sun) and Nathaniel Swift stood out as Jesse in the second act; while the duo of Cheri Chenoweth and Jon Steinhagen as Norma and Roy in the last act were electric in a bravura farcical episode.

One of the beauties of Simon's comedy is how the humor arises naturally from the situations and characters. In the afternoon talk-back discussion following the play some of the cast shared how they interpreted the text to produce the effective character details that made the afternoon enjoyable for the audience. This was a satisfying production of one of Neil Simon's classic comedies.

Portraits of Love

Chris & Don: 
A Love Story

Having read and enjoyed many of Christopher Isherwood's books over the years I was eagerly anticipating this cinematic memoir of his 34-year relationship with the much younger Don Bachardy. I was not disappointed as this documentary is a moving account of their relationship. After a brief introductory section on Christopher's life before his move to California and meeting Don, the film focuses on their story and, interestingly, more and more on Don Bachardy's own development as an artist. From the shy boy who is overwhelmed by the Hollywood stars in Chris's world Don develops a life of his own. A life of his own of a sort, since he owed so much of his development to Chris. How Don and Chris worked this out over the years and stayed together was fascinating. In its portrayal of this story the film was sensitive to both lives and provided a beautiful portrait of the love that kept them together until Chris's death in 1986. Perhaps most touching were the almost daily portraits of Chris that Don created during the final six months of Chris's life. Definitely a documentary worth seeing again.

Boccaccio

The Decameron of Giovanni Boccaccio was published in 1353 and demonstrates that the popularity of gross humor did not begin with the puerile teen comedies of our own era, but can be traced back to the middle ages and before (cf. Plautus and Aristophanes). I am in the midst of a reading of The Decameron using the translation by Mark Musa and Peter Bondanella. Selected stories from the first three days have introduced me to a polyglot of defrocked Friars, larcenous ladies, and virgins whose virginity remains in the imagination alone, although they can fool the King when necessary (the Kings and Priests and Aristocrats seem most likely candidates for the title "fool"). Even in translation the humorous style shines through and it seems all great fun, as long as you don't think of the Black Death that hovers in the background and provides the raison d'etre (pardon the French, I don't know the Italian equivalent) for the tale-telling.

As I completed the days through to the tenth I was impressed with the fecundity of the tales, the breadth of the characters covering multiple vocations and classes, and the author's stylish ability to reach the reader - even in translation. These are tales that have inspired many writers as well as readers since the fourteenth century with good reason. With each tale I found myself looking forward with more desire for the next and now that I am done I am sure I will return to this humane writer.

The Decameron by Giovanni Boccaccio. Norton Critical Editions, New York. 1977 (1353)

Zorba the Greek


Becoming one of my favorite novels, Zorba the Greek by Nikos Kazantzakis is a paean to life, to this earth and to the ultimate questions that lead to happiness. What is happiness, the narrator asks. He is called the boss by Zorba and that is all we know of his name while Zorba has several names before the story is over, but mostly he is known as Zorba. I am not sure where to begin to catalog all the ways this novel resonates with my inner being, but first I find my own search similar to that of the boss as my life is focused on reading and experiencing life through art.

Nikos Kazantzakis gives us these two men in a story demonstrating their contrasting views of life and developing a dialogue between the characters to which we as readers can respond. The narrative asks big questions such as: what is liberty to a man; how can you be true to your nature as a human being; and, what is the relationship of the real to the ideal? In its pages you find references to Buddha, Nietzsche, Marcus Aurelius and others -- but most of all you encounter a good story full of life and love and the adventure that results from two men who challenge each other in their pursuit of the spirit of living.

There is more. . .



Zorba the Greek by Nikos Kazanzakis. Simon & Schuster, New York. 1996 (1952)

Crescent Moon


While enjoying my early morning run I looked overhead and saw a slight crescent moon shining in the pre-dawn sky. My runs have been more infrequent of late, since an aggravation of my left hamstring early this month. After rest and continuous strengthening at the local gym I tested it this morning with some limited success - a foundation on which to build while the running weather is still fine. As I run I have found that I prefer not to listen to recorded music (or recorded anything) through headphones. I would rather create my own music in my mind as companion to my run; sometimes my own music, sometimes tunes from other composers that have lodged in my memory. It enhances the enjoyment of the run. As the perspiration runs down my neck I journey on the lakefront trail - happy to be under the crescent moon.

Brideshead Revisited

Brideshead has never been so magnificent as it is portrayed in the new cinema version directed by Julian Jarrold. Emma Thompson is scintillating in her portrayal of Lady Marchmain in an Academy award worthy performance. Standing out among the major roles are Michael Gambon as Lord Marchmain and Matthew Goode as Charles Ryder; but the whole cast is excellent.
The film highlights the plot from the book with an ultimate focus on temptation; and the world between the wars, through eyes clouded by longing. The action of the book is compressed and intensified by the time limits of film, but with very few exceptions the story and character of the book are honored by this version. The adaptation is very creditable - it certainly shows the appeal of the story. Those who are really entranced by it ought to go and read Waugh's book and rent DVD's of the Granada miniseries--which was one of the best things ever produced for television. In Jarrold's film the youthful infatuation of Charles and Sebastian is portrayed somewhat more intensely and explicitly than the book, but not in any way other than what might be imagined by any truly empathetic reader. I am also willing to forgive the conflation of including Julia with Charles and Sebastian on the visit to Lord Marchmain and his mistress in Venice. The film is able to convey the overarching feel of decay and the themes of Catholicism and the oppressive relationship of Mother and children. While these themes are certainly important, I was more impressed by the beauty of the many scenes, especially Brideshead which was captured frozen in time as a sort of shrine, chapel and mausoleum for the family and their world. The overall vision of the director was stunning in every detail. As always, read the book, but in this case it is also worthwhile to see the film version.

The Hunchback of Notre Dame


Currently playing at Bailiwick Repertory Theater is a musical version of The Hunchback of Notre Dame with Book, Music and Lyrics by Dennis Deyoung (based on the novel, Notre-Dame de Paris, by Victor Hugo). As with the novel, the musical evokes both Paris and the Cathedral along with its story of star-crossed lovers. We are shown the encounter of beauty and the beast; the rivalry of the lovers (Priest, Hunchback and Soldier); the people with gypsies and their underworld; and, the impact on these characters' lives of fate, free will and the nature of desire. The Priest Frollo is torn between his duty to the church and the desires of his flesh for the lovely Esmerelda. Esmerelda is awakened from her simple innocence as she faces a fate leading inexorably to death and (a return to?) Paradise with Quasimodo who, being the true innocent and outsider, attempts to save her as her vision replaces his love for the Bells of Notre Dame.
In the performance I attended last night the cast performed well with Evan D'Angeles, Gregory Franklin and Dana Tretta notable in the roles of Quasimodo, Frollo and Esmerelda, respectively; while Liz Pazik's portrayal of the gypsy Mahiette was outstanding. Deyoung's music with fine pacing and a mix of lively rhythms and love ballads helped the evening move along swiftly as the timeless story of ill-fated love kept the audience enthralled. The performance ended with a well-deserved standing ovation.

Eliot & Goethe

George Eliot in Germany

George Eliot visited Weimar in 1854 with George Henry Lewes, more than six years before the publication of The Mill on the Floss. Her experiences there would be used in several of her novels, all of which were yet to be written, including Daniel Deronda and Middlemarch (Haight, p. 151). It was also during this trip that Lewes was writing his life of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.
It was Eliot who translated the many quotations from Goethe that were used in that volume (Haight, p. 172). Her view of Goethe as an egoist stems from this visit and her extensive reading of Goethe's complete works. This reading and the views of his thought which she subsequently developed make it unsurprising that we find the connections with Goethe (and perhaps Schiller as well) surfacing in the opinions of young Philip Wakem in his talk with Maggie "In the Red Deeps" (Chapter 1, Book Fifth, The Mill on the Floss, p. 246):


"But I can't give up wishing," said Philip, impatiently. "It seems to me we can never give up longing and wishing while we are thoroughly alive. There are certain things we feel to be beautiful and good, and we must hunger after them. How can we ever be satisfied without them until our feelings are deadened?"




The Mill on the Floss by George Eliot. Norton Critical Editions, New York. 1994 (1860)
George Eliot: A Biography by Gordon S. Haight. Oxford University Press, New York. 1968

The Selfish Gene
- some notes

I have finally (after several recommendations of friends over the years) read The Selfish Gene by Richard Dawkins. Some of my immediate thoughts: I enjoyed his discussion of the importance of the gene through a dissection and diminution of the human being.
I will, no doubt have to read it again to understand all the nuances of the work. Some of Dawkins' metaphors, while mellifluous, are potentially problematical, e.g. "We are machines created by our genes." They roll off the tongue well, and I will no doubt use them in conversation but I am still trying to understand the subtleties of his scientific utterances. I have not yet wrapped my mind around a “purpose-intent” set of genes. The answer is probably hiding there the cloud of new ideas and I missed it, but they have lasted for more than a quarter century and Dawkins has established the concept of "meme" which has become ubiquitous. The book was fun, educational, and thought-provoking to read. I hope my genes will allow me to learn more about this area of science.
Also, I wonder why the idea of selfishness, whether it exists as a gene, or as a learned philosophy is not given a fair shake as a possible remedy for some agreed upon social ills. Is it not possible that Ayn Rand had it right in her concept of selfishness as a virtue?


The Selfish Gene by Richard Dawkins. Oxford University Press, New York. 1999 (1976)

Tell No One



I have slowed in my postings, as it has been a week since my last, but life continues and yesterday I saw a film that is worth noting. I am a fan of the French cinema so I try to see French films when they open at my neighborhood cinema.

With the "critic's choice" recommendation of the Chicago Reader in my pocket I went to see Tell No One (Ne le dis a personne) directed and written (from a book by Harlan Coben) by Guillame Canet. It was a suspenseful and well-acted film that managed to start with an impossible situation, an e-mail message from someone supposedly dead for eight years, and continue to build suspense until the final piece falls into place very close to the end of the film. The story focuses a pediatrician, Alexandre Beck, who misses his beloved wife Margot who was brutally murdered eight years ago when he was the prime suspect. When two bodies are found near where the corpse of Margot was dumped, the police reopen the case and Alex becomes suspect again. The mystery increases when Alex receives an e-mail showing Margot older and alive. When a photographer is killed and Alex is framed he is on the run for much of the second half of the film - trying to elude the police and find out why his wife is alive and has been missing for eight years. Canet respected the author's original work (which I must consider reading) and the cast is absolutely excellent ! François Cluzet (with a resemblance with Dustin Hoffman) is a perfect Dr Beck. Kristin Scott-Thomas, André Dussolier (can be a naughty character too), Jean Rochefort and the others are great as well. I highly recommend this as one of the best films, French or otherwise, that you will see this year. Tell everyone!

Adam Bede

by George Eliot

"See the difference between the impression a man makes on you when you walk by his side in familiar talk, or look at him in his home, and the figure he makes when seen from a lofty historical level, or even in the eyes of a critical neighbor who thinks of him as an embodied system or opinion rather than as a man."  - George Eliot, Adam Bede



George Eliot's Adam Bede lives in the charming rustic countryside and adheres to a stoic version of the Puritan work ethic. His world is disrupted by both the classic temptation of Eros in the form of the too beautiful Hetty and the dissenting spiritual views of the Methodist preacher Dinah Morris.
The author controls the narrative and lectures the reader as the other characters, brother Seth, Arthur Donnithorne, the Poysers, and the Rector Irwine are intertwined in the the fates of young Hetty and Adam. The novel succeeds in conveying the bucolic charm of the place while almost convincing us of the inevitability of fate. Above all, the characters are interesting and believable. My favorite, the Rector Irwine is notable in his interest in the classics and his disdain of preaching. Hetty Sorrel, the narcissistic young girl is harder to believe or understand, but she certainly has the requisite beauty to catch the eye of the aristocratic young Arthur who lets his emotions hold sway over his reason (insufficiently developed to handle this battle). Rereading this early novel of Eliot suggests the potential that she would fulfill in her later work, particularly Middlemarch.

Adam Bede by George Eliot. Everyman's Library, New York, 1992 (1859)